


Destiny

by pookiestheone



Series: The Faces of Love / Destiny [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pookiestheone/pseuds/pookiestheone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. The tradition is that when you give someone a wallet or purse as a gift, you should include money, usually a penny, either for good luck or as a wish that it never be empty</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This is a sequel to [The Faces of Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/992303)

_Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved._ William Jennings Bryan

* * *

As Jimmy sat in the front room watching Gerry walk unsteadily, grasping onto one piece of furniture after the other, he pulled the letter from his pocket so he could re-read it.

_Dear Jimmy_

_I'm settling in nicely with the Neilsens. Completely different from Downton and that is going to take some getting used to. Mr. Nielsen insists that I be called Mr. Barrow by everyone, including the family. 'It's a matter of respect, Mr. Barrow. You deserve it as much as we do.' I'm not sure how I feel about that. Listen to me, I sound as much of a stick-in-the-mud as Carson. That can't be good, can it?_

_There's more, much more, but I'll save all that for later. I hope you're getting on well as under butler. You'll be fine. No, you'll be great. And in a few years it will be Mr. Kent, butler of Downton Abbey._

_Thank you for my last evening. Your gift was unexpected and something I will never forget._

_Remember that I am not that far away; York is not the antipodes. I do intend to visit, although it would be difficult for you to do so._

_I want to get this in the afternoon post, so I'll finish for now. My love to Hannah and Gerry. Send me a photo when you get a chance._

_Thomas_

He had included £5 with the letter, but said nothing about it. Jimmy knew it was for Gerry. _Better not tell Hannah. She'll want it for something else._

"Who's that from?" Hannah asked as she set down a cup of tea beside him.

"Thomas. Here, see what he has to say."

Hannah settled onto the small sofa, reaching out a biscuit to Gerry who gurgled at her in thanks.

"You got him a gift? What?"

"Uh ... just some cufflinks."

"Could we afford that?" She didn't miss Jimmy's glare.

"Do I have to remind you that he's the only reason we can afford anything." His arm swept the room and arced to the ceiling. "All this, including the roof over our heads is down to him. I think a cheap set of cufflinks is hardly repayment." He was lying, of course. The cufflinks hadn't been cheap, nor were they the only gift, but like the £5, she didn't need to know that either. He reached down and picked up Gerry as he staggered by.

"I realise that, Jimmy, but I ... we should matter more."

"And you don't think you do? Tell me, what has Gerry done without? As a matter of fact, what have you done without?"

It had become an irritation between them. Hannah worrying that she and Gerry would suffer for some unknown reason and Jimmy knowing they never would. As under butler he was well enough paid, but that had to stretch to three people. He had given up any small pleasures he had just for them. Cigarettes, a night at the pub, a flutter on the horses – all gone. He even managed to sneak some of the Granthams' food on occasion just so they could have something different. He noticed that Hannah didn't object when that happened or care about the risk he was taking.

"I'm just saying, Jimmy ..."

"Well Hannah, when you have something worth saying, I'll listen." He hoisted Gerry onto his chest as he stood up. "I'm taking him outside for a while."

"But what about lunch?"

"Has he eaten?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then that's all that matters at the moment." As Jimmy grabbed a blanket from the side of the sofa and wrapped it around Gerry, he saw Hannah watching him. "I suppose you're going to tell me that he won't be warm enough."

"Not at all. You just do what you think is best." She got up and went into the kitchen where he could hear her start to bang at the pot that sat soaking in the sink. He shut his eyes and just shook his head.

"Okay, Gerry, come with Papa for a walk."

"Pa ak." Gerry's tiny fist grabbed Jimmy's earlobe.

"Close enough, my boy."

Shutting the door behind him, he ignored the pram as he passed it and started down the road toward the village.

"Truth be told, your Mama and I aren't getting along. Doesn't surprise me because it's nothing new. But you don't need to worry about any of that." Jimmy chuckled to himself. _God I miss Thomas. Here I am talking to a baby about something Thomas should hear._ To keep his mind off the unpleasantness that was sure to continue when he got home, he explained the things they were seeing to Gerry.

"That's an oak tree. And those little things on the ground are baby oak trees.. That's a ... some other type of tree. Those are nettles, we steer clear of those."

Gerry's head tilted back as he looked up into a tree.

"A bird." _I have no idea what type._ "Your Papa's not all that helpful, is he?"

"Naahh."

"It's a bit early in life to start criticising me. You should leave that to Mama."

Jimmy began to hum a tune he had heard at the last musical show he had gone to a few years ago and within a few minutes Gerry was fast asleep. Since he hadn't planned on going anywhere, when he reached the village Jimmy simply turned around and retraced his steps.

"We're back."

"So I can see."

"I think he needs changed."

"You know where the diapers are. Can't you see that I'm having a cup of tea at the moment."

_Christ, Hannah, don't try to turn him into a pawn because I'll choose him over you any day._

"I'm going to see my mother later. She hasn't been well. I don't want to take Gerald, so you can look after him, right?"

"You didn't mention this earlier."

"I forgot."

"Will you be back for dinner?"

"I'll leave something."

"And Gerry?"

"You know Gerald's eating solids. He'll be fine."

As he changed Gerry's diaper Jimmy began to wonder. _How can she seem so worried about him one minute and not seem to give a damn the next?_ He realised it wasn't something new. It wasn't that she was a bad mother, just an indifferent one at times. And those times had become more frequent. It occurred to him that their earlier conversation, the one that started the argument, likely had more to do with what she might have to do without. Gerry just seemed to be included to make him feel guilty. _Surely that can't be the reason._ And yet the more he thought about it, the more it worried him.  



	2. Chapter 2

  
Thomas helped Algernon Neilsen on with his coat and handed him his hat and gloves.

"Mrs. Neilsen and I will be returning late Mr. Barrow. There is no need to wait up."

"Thank you, sir."

"Come, Algie, we don't want to be late," his wife called from the open door.

"Yes, Cynthia, but we have plenty of time." He turned to Thomas once again. "I'm sure the boys won't be any trouble."

"Of course not, sir. They never are."

Neilsen gave him a quick smile and a nod then took his wife's arm and guided her out the door. Thomas locked it behind them, but didn't throw the bolt, knowing they would be locked out if he did.

"So they've gone then, Mr. Barrow."

"Yes, Lawrence. We won't have much to do tonight." He raised an eyebrow at the young footman. "I don't suppose you'll object to a quiet evening."

"Not at all, Mr. Barrow. I'll check the rooms to see if there's anything that needs clearing away. Then I wonder if I might go out as well."

Thomas smiled at him.

"Louise awaits, I take it."

Lawrence blushed and nodded. "I said I'd take her to the cinema if I could get away."

"All right. I don't see why not. They wouldn't mind." Thomas paused. "Have I told you how lucky we are here?"

"Only once or twice, Mr. Barrow," Lawrence laughed.

"Off with you then. I'll take care of the rooms. You be careful though. Little surprises can come along in nine months."

Lawrence's blush deepened.

"I would never ..."

"Of course you wouldn't. Go."

A smile spread across Thomas's face as he watched Lawrence leave. His year and a half with the Neilsens had changed him; it had taken the sharp edges off those aspects of his personality that had always made him distrustful of others. At first he wasn't sure if he liked it. Those same sharp edges had stopped him from being hurt and, in the past when he had let his guard down, it seemed that hurt was all he could expect. He had also come to learn that in this house he didn't have to plot and plan to keep ahead or protect himself. _Perhaps Mr. Neilsen was right when he said it was a matter of respect. You get what you give. Jesus, I'm going soft._

He went from room to room, checking for stray glasses and dishes, then turning out each light as he left. Downton of course dwarfed the Neilsen's home, but it was still a large house; a main floor with a saloon, library, drawing room and dining room, two upper floors with twelve bedrooms and then the servant's quarters on the top floor. Although they were still technically in the attic, this too was no Downton. The male servants' quarters held only his room and Lawrence's; the spare rooms were for visiting servants. The Neilsens preferred to keep a minimal number of staff in the house and have the rest live out. And there was no valet or lady's maid. Mr. Neilsen had confided in Thomas that he never understood people who seemed incapable of choosing their own clothing and dressing themselves.

Thomas knocked at the eldest boy's room.

"Come in."

"I'm retiring for the evening, sir. I just wanted to see if you needed anything."

The young man looked up from his book and took off his glasses.

"Ah, no Mr. Barrow. I can always go down to the kitchen if I get hungry."

Thomas glanced around the room. It was a mess. Clothes, books, records scattered everywhere; the bed was unmade and the pillows were on the floor. Jeremy only let the maid in once a week because he said he could never find anything after she left.

"Very good. I'll check with your brother."

"I believe Harry may be asleep. He wasn't feeling well."

"Good night then," Thomas replied and left the room. Harry was the complete opposite of his brother. Where Jeremy was outgoing, impulsive, and untidy, Harry was quiet, methodical and neat almost to a fault.

He tapped softly at his door.

"Yes?"

"I understand you're not well."

"I wasn't, but I'm feeling better now," Harry smiled at him from the bed. While he liked both boys, he found he had a soft spot for Harry and they got along very well. He remembered Carson saying something about a butler having his favourites. Thomas was still conscious of the master/servant line, but it had blurred considerably.

"You know your parents will be back later than usual." Harry nodded as he set down his book on the coverlet. "I'm going up to my room, but if you feel ill again ..."

"Yes, Mr. Barrow, I know where to find you. Thank you and good night."

As Thomas climbed the two flights of stairs to his own room it occurred to him that something like this would never have happened at Downton. The aristocracy assumed that servants knew their places and, Lady Sybil aside, would seldom conceive of any degree of true familiarity. The Neilsens, _nouveau riche_ though they might be, didn't aspire to imitate them. Algernon Neilsen was unusual in his approach to his servants, or employees as he preferred to call them. And that attitude extended through his entire family.

As Thomas opened the door to his room he was reminded once again that this was not Downton. A gas fire welcomed him from one wall and when he flipped the light switch what he saw made him feel at home. It was quite a change.

\----

On the day he arrived, he was taken aback by two things. First it was Mrs. Neilsen who greeted him and showed him up to his room. He was still coming to terms with that when she opened the door. It was large, bright, and airy, but save for a bed and a dresser it was empty – no chair, no pictures, no rug, not even a coverlet on the bed.

"We decided to clear out everything, except for that dresser. It's a beautiful old piece, don't you agree?"

All Thomas could do was nod. She started to laugh as she stood behind him

"Come now Mr. Barrow. It can't be all that bad."

"Uh, well ... I ..."

She interrupted in order to save him any further embarrassment.

"This is meant to be your home. Don't you think you should have a say in how it's furnished? We use Harrod's. Go to London later this week, choose what you want and they will put it on our account." She burst into laughter again. "Assuming of course you aren't inclined to diamond-encrusted things."

"No, I ..."

"I almost forgot, Algie asked me to give you this." Thomas opened the envelope and pulled out £200. He looked at it for a second and then at her. "Just in case Harrod's doesn't have something you want. No receipts needed, what you don't spend is yours."

A smile teased at her lips as she watched him. "The look on your face is priceless." She turned to leave, but stopped. "Have you seen that this room adjoins another one?" She pointed towards a door. "We thought you could remove the door and turn that into whatever you want. A separate sitting room, perhaps. A desk would be nice under the south-facing window in there. This house was built for so many servants it seems a shame to let the lovely rooms go to waste."

\----

Thomas took of his jacket and hung it up, then bent over and untied his shoes which he then placed in a neat row with his other ones on the floor of the wardrobe. He started for his chair then remembered he had Jimmy's latest letter in his jacket pocket. After retrieving it he made himself comfortable, leaning back in the chair and stretching his feet out into an ottoman. Their letter writing had been faithful. Thomas had thought that Jimmy would soon tire of it, but he hadn't. A new one tended to arrive every fortnight, sometimes more frequently.

_Dear Thomas_

_Things have been very busy, as you might imagine with Lady Mary preparing to remarry. Her fiancé seems very nice – at least from what I can tell by eavesdropping. His Lordship is pleased so that must mean something. It will be strange to have someone else living in the house, we seem to have gotten used to a smaller family now that Lady Edith has moved to London permanently._

_I worry a bit about Mr. Carson. The old man is getting forgetful, which of course he will never admit. The other day I found him wandering the second floor with two candlesticks that belong in the dining room. The week before he lost the key to the wine cellar – it was on his desk. I suppose the time is coming when he will be retiring. I'm not sure if either he or I are ready for that._

_Things at home go from bad to worse. It's not all Hannah's fault I know, but I find that I dread each evening. Only Gerry keeps me coming back. My bright light in all the darkness. He's a sharp little boy. Not quite two and a half and he can read from that book you sent him. I doubt he understands, but he recognises some of the words. Sometimes when I try to read to him he pulls the book from my hands and babbles on with his own story. It was about "ncrons", or as you and I would say "unicorns", last time._

_When are you coming for a visit? You said that York wasn't the antipodes, but it seems it might as well be. I want you to see Gerry. And, if I'm to be honest, I desperately need to talk to you face-to-face. God I miss that._

_Please continue writing me at Downton and not at home. There's no need to add fuel to a fire. More on that when I see you. I hope you're getting the hint._

_Love as always._

_Jimmy_

Thomas set the letter to one side. Jimmy's letters both upset and pleased him. This problem with Hannah wasn't going to go away and part of it was his fault. He had almost forced Jimmy into marrying her. They pleased him because they had become more free, more affectionate as time passed. The idea that Jimmy would mention love, no matter how platonic, surprised him the first time. He supposed it shouldn't have when he thought back to the last night before he left Downton.

\----

They had spent the night at the pub, talking, laughing, and drinking too much. On the walk back Jimmy was quiet, not even answering when Thomas thanked him once again for the cufflinks. When they reached the point where they were to go their separate ways, they stopped and the silence became even more awkward.

"You know I'll write, Jimmy."

"Hmm."

"Please, let's not part like this. Say something, even if it's goodbye again."

Jimmy looked at him, then took a step closer and kissed him. Thomas was so surprised he just stood there, rooted to the spot. His surprise turned to astonishment when the kiss moved from chaste to passionate. Jimmy threw his arms around his neck and held on like a drowning man clinging to the person who was going to save him. He finally broke the kiss, but still didn't let go.

"Jimmy, what ..."

"Don't say a word. Don't ask me why because I don't fucking know. Maybe it's the beer, maybe it's the thought of losing my only friend, maybe it's ..."

He brought his hands down to Thomas's sides, grasping his waist and kissed him once again. This time it was different. It wasn't passionate; it was tender, much more tender than Thomas had ever experienced, and filled with longing.

Jimmy stepped away.

"Yes, you bloody well better write."

He turned and sprinted towards the cottage, leaving Thomas dumbstruck, staring after him.

\----

They never discussed it, even in their letters. Thomas realised those kisses were the reason he had held off returning to Downton. He was afraid neither of them would know how to deal with it in person.

He got up and went to his desk in the other room. Pulling out an engagement calendar, he leafed through it. The Neilsens would be away visiting her mother for a week at the end of the month and the boys would be going with them. _I could stay in Ripon at the hotel or even in Downton at the pub. The pub would be easier for Jimmy. I'll telephone tomorrow._ He pulled a sheet of notepaper from a pigeon hole.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Jimmy flung open the door into the butler's office.

"Mr. Carson, you haven't rung the dressing gong."

"Pardon?"

"The dressing gong. The family is spread all over the house and Mrs. Larson says dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

Carson looked at him for a few seconds as if he didn't understand before he suddenly leapt from his chair.

"Oh good Lord, where has my mind been?"

"It's fine. If you ring it now Mrs. Larson says she can hold off for another ten minutes without much harm. She's not happy, though."

"What cook ever is. But that's no excuse for my own ineptitude."

"These things happen, Mr. Carson."

"But they're not supposed to happen to me," he retorted as he brushed by Jimmy into the hallway. Jimmy followed him and as he waited he could have sworn that Carson hit the gong with a sledgehammer. "Is everything else ready. Footman? I wish we had another one."

"We'll manage, Mr. Carson. We have been for a while."

"Yes, but I remember when just managing wasn't good enough." Suddenly his mind seemed to wander once again. Jimmy watched his eyes as they lost concentration. _This is not good._

"You know I'm not here tomorrow, Mr. Carson."

"What? Oh, that's right. But what about the family and their meals?"

"You will be able to manage with Arthur."

"There's that cursed word again."

"He's an excellent footman, well trained." Jimmy sighed knowing that wasn't enough for Carson. "I think we should go, don't you."

"Yes, of course."

By the time the family sat down at the table, Carson had returned to his old self, much to Jimmy's relief. He and Arthur worked well as a team. Serving at meals hadn't been part of his original duties as under butler, but when His Lordship decided not to replace a departing footman that changed. Jimmy didn't mind. Unlike some - he immediately thought of Thomas - he didn't have a rigid view of what his duties were and were not. _Times change. If Thomas were here now, he would feel the same way - perhaps._ Thinking of Thomas brought a smile to his face as he stood waiting for the family to finish the main course. _He'll be here tomorrow. Eighteen bloody months and only letters to fill the void he left me with._ Jimmy was both looking forward to and dreading the next day.

\----

When Carson handed him the letter as he sat having a mid-morning cup of tea it was all he could do to stop himself from ripping it open. Instead he glanced at it and slipped it into his pocket waiting for Carson to leave. He wondered if Thomas even imagined how much pleasure his letters brought. Sometimes it was three or four pages long, filled with things that were happening in York and with the Neilsens and more importantly about himself: sometimes there was only a few paragraphs. Those short ones always left him feeling, if not cheated, then disappointed. He knew that wasn't Thomas's fault.

"From Mr. Barrow again?" Carson asked as he stood at the doorway ready to leave.

"Yes, we like to keep in touch."

"And all is well?"

"Definitely,” Jimmy replied.

Carson nodded and headed toward his office. Taking that as his cue, Jimmy pulled the envelope from his pocket and slit it open with one of the table knives.

_Dear Jimmy_

_I hope you'll be pleased to hear that I'm finally coming to visit. I'll be there on the 26th and plan on staying three days. I've made arrangements to lodge at the Grantham Arms which will be convenient to see you and the family. We'll all go out one evening for dinner as a treat for Hannah, assuming that you can arrange the time off. If you can't, then she, Gerry, and I will go. You'll have to settle for hearing about it._

_I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to seeing you both. And of course Gerry. I know I'll be surprised by the changes in him and it will probably remind me that I have been foolish to stay away so long._

_I have other news which I think you will find interesting, but I'm going to tease and leave that until I see you._

_Thomas_

Inside was another letter and £10. _He really has to stop this, I'm not a charity case._

_Jimmy_

_I can almost hear you complaining about the money. You know it's for Gerry so you have nothing to say as far as I'm concerned. I don't know if you tell Hannah, but I would guess not. Although how you explain to her when you use it is another question._

_You and I both know we have to have some time alone together. Can you arrange to be off the day I arrive, even the afternoon? I'll be on the 9:30 train. We don't have to stay in Downton if you're concerned that Hannah might know. I'm not suggesting that there will be anything unseemly, but you yourself said better not to add fuel to a fire. And that might happen should you choose not to tell her and she finds out._

_Write me back and let me know._

_Love, Thomas_

Jimmy's hands shook as he put the first letter back in the envelope. He re-read the second, then got up and walked to the fire where he threw it in. He really didn't understand why - or perhaps he just wouldn't admit that he did - but as he watched it burn it was as if the flames were searing his own flesh. The fire was where all Thomas's private notes went and each time he threw one in he felt the same pain. _Christ, will the day ever come when I have the guts to actually keep one?_ He smiled bitterly because he knew how unlikely that would be.

\----

He suddenly realised that Carson was glaring at him from across the room.

"Mr. Kent," Arthur whispered as he passed, "the plates need to be cleared."

_Shit!_

Lady Grantham looked up at him as he reached for her plate.

"You seems distracted this evening, Kent. Is everything all right? It's not your son, is it?"

_What?_ "I apologise, My Lady. No, Gerry is perfectly well, thank you."

She seemed satisfied with that and returned to her conversation with her daughter. Jimmy carried the plates from the room into the servery then followed Arthur, who was chucking to himself, down the stairs.

"I'm not sure which one of you was more shocked, you or Mr. Carson."

"Yes, very funny, Arthur."

"No offense, Mr. Kent, but I think you need that day off."

_I couldn't agree more._

When Jimmy finally got home it was almost eleven. Hannah was still up, but Gerry had of course been in bed for hours.

"I'm just going to look in on him."

Hannah looked up from her knitting. "For God's sake, don't wake him."

"Do I ever? Why, was he hard to put down tonight?"

"No. It's just I'm tired. I don't think you realise how much effort he takes."

Jimmy just looked at her and walked away, opening the door to Gerry's room.

_Christ. I know, but he's our son. If I could I would ..._ He reached down into the crib and brushed back the mass of blond curls that had fallen across Gerry's eyes. _You need a haircut. I'll do that tomorrow before I go to meet Thomas._

He closed the door quietly and crossed into the front room, dropping into the armchair.

"Any tea?"

"No. But I'll take a cup when you make it."

Suddenly Jimmy felt like he had run head on into a brick wall and he was reeling, half-dazed from the impact.

_This has gone so wrong, so bloody wrong._ Then he said something he hadn't intended to.

"I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll cut Gerry's hair in the morning and then I'm taking him to meet Thomas at the train."

"And what about me?"

"You can fucking do whatever you want, but it won't be with Gerry and me."

He had never really sworn at her before, except for the odd "damn" or "bloody." Her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. He knew she wanted to say something, to hit back, but the words just wouldn't come. For a moment he regretted it, but he quickly realised that getting the rancour out in the open was preferable to bottling it up and pretending it would go away.

"I'll be sleeping out here tonight."

She stared angrily at him as she got to her feet. "I doubt if I'll notice the difference." She started to walk toward the bedroom, but spun around. Her eyes flashed with anger and when she spat out the words, venom soaked them. "You just take your precious little boy and do whatever you want. You don't fool me, you never have. This has never been a proper marriage; I never expected it to be. I'm just here to babysit. Perhaps you should worry about what will happen when I tire of babysitting ..." She stopped dead and took a step back into the bedroom doorway when Jimmy leapt to his feet.

"I would suggest that you don't complete that sentence." The idea of striking a woman was so foreign that he believed it was inconceivable, but if she were threatening Gerry in any way, he wasn't sure what he might do. And it frightened him that he had let this shambles of a marriage deteriorate so badly that such a consideration was even a remote possibility.

"I don't need to." She spun on her heel and slammed the bedroom door behind her, which led to a cry from Gerry's room.

"Papa! Papa!"

"I'm coming. Everything's all right."

But he knew that was far from the truth.  



	4. Chapter 4

  
The next morning Jimmy woke to sounds from the kitchen of a spoon rattling against the side of a pot. As he sat up on the sofa he realised that his neck was sore and his right arm was asleep. While he waited for the pins and needles to start in his arm, he rolled his head from side to side and massaged at his neck with his good hand, hoping to work out the kink. _No one to blame but myself for this._ The ache reminded him that there was another type of hurt to come, but like the physical pain it too would fade. What worried him was how long it would take and what damage it would do before he could move past it. _I'm sorry for the way this came about, but I'm not sorry it happened._ His mother had always said it was better to rip off a plaster than to pick at it bit by bit. He prayed she was right.

He got up and walked to Gerry's room, glancing quickly into the kitchen to see Hannah sitting at the table facing away from him, just staring at the wall in front of her. He had nothing to say to her. Eventually they would have to talk, but not now. He opened Gerry's door and crossed to the crib where he lay quietly sucking his thumb. He reached down and felt the diaper. Gerry was in underpants during the day, but not a night yet. _Has she even been in to see you? I guess it doesn't matter as long as you have me._ He couldn't believe that she would think of taking this out on him. _She's just preoccupied. Can't blame her for that._ He lifted Gerry out of the crib and put him on the top of the dresser, pulling a clean flannel from the drawer. _Well, at least you're only wet._ He poured some water into the bowl they kept and gently washed him. As he was drying him he heard the front door close. He stopped and looked down at Gerry.

"Well, my boy, I guess it really is just you and me today. What do you think about a day with you old Papa?" As he dusted him with baby talc he continued. "We're going to see Thomas. You don't remember him, but you'll like him." After he finished dressing him, he picked him up and carried him to the kitchen. _She left porridge and tea. I didn't expect that._ He dished them both some of the porridge and ate as he watched Gerry attack his with a spoon. He realised that perhaps he was being harsh on Hannah, but it still stung that she had called Gerry "your precious boy." It was true of course, but he was her son as well and she chose not to say anything about that. He decided it was just another example of her growing indifference.

"Here, you little beggar, give me that," he laughed. "You're wearing more porridge than you're eating."

When he finished he handed Gerry a toy to keep him busy while he combed back his hair and took the scissors to his unruly mop. _That wasn't very bright. Now I'm going to have to change his shirt again._ Gerry wasn't a fidgety boy so he managed to get his hair looking half decent without a problem. When he glanced up at the clock, he discovered it was almost nine. It was about a fifteen minute walk to the station, more than double that if he let Gerry walk all the way. That certainly wasn't going to happen today. He quickly changed Gerry's shirt, got him into his jacket first, then put on his own as he was closing the front door behind them.

"Going to see Thomas?" Gerry asked. Jimmy was surprised he remembered their one-sided conversation from the morning, as if he had sensed how important this was.

"Yes, but I think you should call him Uncle Thomas."

"Oncal Thomas?" The word was new to Gerry since he had no uncles.

"Yes"

"Aw right"

He muttered "Oncal Thomas" as Jimmy picked him up and hurried along the road into the village. He needn't have rushed since he arrived a good five minutes before the train was scheduled and it, of course, turned out to be late. As he waited he paced the platform nervously, juggling Gerry from one arm to the other. Finally when he heard the train in the distance, he ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it and did the same to Gerry. As the train neared the station it blew it's whistle which startled both of them and made Gerry clasp his hands over his ears.

When it stopped, Jimmy moved eagerly towards the third class carriage only to be surprised when he met Thomas as he stepped down from first class, two suitcases in hand and something tucked under one arm. _Jesus, Thomas Barrow carrying a stuffed bear. Now I've seen fucking everything._ They both stood and looked at one another, as if not sure what to do next. Jimmy felt his chest tighten as Thomas went to say something, but ended up just closing his eyes as he took a deep breath.

Gerry began to wiggle and he felt him reach out an arm.

"Oncal Thomas? Papa is that him?"

Thomas's eyes shot open. He set down his suitcases and took a step forward, taking Gerry's tiny hand in his own.

"Yes ..." He had to stop so he could control the shaking in his voice. "Yes, and you're Gerry aren't you?"

"Yes." Gerry wrinkled his forehead as he studied him. "What's that?" he asked as he pulled his hand back so he could point at the bear.

"This," Thomas said as he pulled the toy from under his arm and held it out. "is for you."

Gerry grabbed it. "Pooh!"

Jimmy realised it looked exactly like the stuffed bear in his favourite book, one of the many books that Thomas had sent him."

"That's right, Pooh."

"What do you say, Gerry?"

"I like Pooh."

"Yes." Jimmy saw Thomas break into a broad smile. _I've missed him so much, but I've missed that the most._ "But what else."

"Thank you, Oncal Thomas."

"You're welcome."

Thomas turned his attention from Gerry to Jimmy as he held out his hand. Jimmy grabbed it in much the same way as Gerry had grabbed the bear.

"Thomas, I ... It's been so long I wasn't sure I was ever going to see you again."

Thomas's free hand clasped their handshake.

"I'm sorry, it was just ... difficult." He didn't need to elaborate. "But I'm here now and we have a lot to talk about." He turned and picked up his suitcases. Let's get to the pub so I can unpack." As they left the station, he looked around. "No Hannah?"

"That's another matter. Not exactly the reunion I was hoping for."

"I think you best at least start to tell me about it on the way."

By the time they reached the pub, Thomas had heard most of the story. It wasn't new; just the details had changed. Over the last eighteen months Jimmy had written about the downward spiral of his marriage. He hadn't tried to assign blame solely to Hannah because he had known that wasn't the truth. What changed this time for Thomas was that the bitterness and dislike had finally erupted into the open and he sensed that, once there, they would never be smoothed over and hidden again. And that Jimmy thought she was somehow threatening Gerry was a new, dangerous twist if it were true. He wasn't sure if Jimmy was overreacting and perhaps reading something into the situation that wasn't there.

Jimmy set Gerry on the floor to play with Pooh and sat on the edge of the bed watching Thomas unpack.

"You brought enough clothes. You're only here for three days."

"Are you calling me vain," Thomas asked as he hung up his fifth shirt, "just because I'll never wear all of them?"

"If the cap fits." Jimmy thought for a moment. "You must be doing well. All these clothes and a first class ticket."

"Truth be told, I am." He closed up the suitcases and set them in a corner, bending down on his way back to pick up Gerry, who started to protest, but changed his mind when he saw who it was. He sat in the armchair, Gerry on his knee. "It obviously doesn't all come from being a butler." He watched Jimmy's interest turn to a scowl. "And there's nothing disreputable, believe it or not."

\----

Thomas poured a large scotch for Algernon Neilsen late one evening about six months after he had begun working for him.. Neilsen had spent the evening in the library with his partners reviewing the state of some of his businesses and considering future investments. Thomas had been there as he usually was at these meetings. He thought it odd that Neilsen chose to conduct so much of his business away from his office, but given how successful he was Thomas could see no argument against it.

"So tell me Mr. Barrow, are you interested in business?"

Thomas immediately thought back to his black market fiasco.

"I wouldn't say that, Mr. Neilsen."

"No? It's just that I notice you pay close attention to what's being discussed."

"I apologise. I would never use what I hear."

"And why not? I would."

Thomas thought for a moment and then plunged on. "I would have no idea how to put it into practice."

"Well, if not business then, how about investments?"

"Once again, sir, I don't know enough." _And I'll be damned if I want to risk what savings I have on a whim._

"And yet, you still listen."

Neilsen took a sip of his drink.

"Did you know that my father delivered bread for a living and I started work as a messenger boy when I was twelve."

This type of revelation no longer surprised Thomas in a household where quite often the concept of _pas devant les domestiques_ seemed unheard of, but he still felt uncomfortable when it happened.

"No I wasn't aware of that, sir." _Where is this going?_

"What I'm try to say, Mr. Barrow, is that I'm aware of the importance of seeking a secure future when your past or circumstances in your life can lead you to believe there is a danger it might not be."

"I see." It was as if Neilsen had peered into the dark corner of his mind where that exact fear lurked.

"If you do, would you let me give you some guidance."

Thomas remained silent.

"What if I were to tell you that you can turn two hundred pounds into two thousand within the year?"

"Would this have something to do with your discussions tonight, sir?"

"I see you have indeed been listening. So, yes and no. Yes, because this is a great opportunity. And no, because you should never limit yourself. Eggs in one basket and all that."

"I appreciate the chance."

"But you're still not sure. And if I were to guarantee your original investment? What then?"

_I would think you might be mad._ "Could I have some time to consider this?"

"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't asked. Just as long as you remember that caution may be laudable, Mr. Barrow, but to paraphrase Ecclesiastes, there is a time for everything."

As he lay propped up on his pillow that night he tried to decide what to do. Neilsen was no fool. He had foreseen the 1929 crash and pulled his money out of the stock markets worldwide, choosing to buy property at a time when many thought it foolish. He wasn't sure what else he had done - in one instance he had heard talk of huge investments in livestock in Argentina - but by 1934, with the depression in full swing, Thomas had learned, once again by eavesdropping, that not only had he preserved his considerable fortune, but it had grown. Putting aside Neilsen's motives, which Thomas couldn't fathom - _Who does something when they have nothing to gain?_ \- it seemed unwise to look this particular gift horse in the mouth

\----

He summarised all this for Jimmy, but he didn't mention that, despite some setbacks, he actually had made almost four thousand pounds in the last year - a figure that astounded him when so many others were struggling. He realised he held back the amount because he was afraid that it would seem he was trying to brag or to make Jimmy feel bad.

Suddenly Gerry sat upright. "Papa, I have to go."

"Is there a toilet? I know there's one outside."

"Supposed to be just down the hall."

Jimmy reached over, taking Gerry from Thomas's lap. "Sorry, but when he says that he means it."

Thomas watched them leave, then clutching Pooh which had been left in his care, he went to the dresser and opened the small bag he had brought with him. A billfold for Jimmy and some earrings for Hannah. _I guess I'll have to return the earrings._  



	5. Chapter 5

  
Thomas took the earrings from the bag and shut them in a dresser drawer. When he sat back down he began to wonder as he looked at the bag itself. It was from a London store, one the Granthams used and one which Jimmy was sure to recognise as being expensive. Once again he worried. _Will he think I'm showing off? All I want him to know is that he should only have the best._ He was about to pull the billfold from the bag so he could just hand it to him, when the door burst open and Gerry ran in, followed by Jimmy.

"Where's Pooh?"

Thomas reached down, retrieving the bear from the cushion beside him.

"Right here. All safe and sound."

Gerry took it, but instead of sitting on the floor, he walked to the bed and tried to climb onto it. Since the top of the mattress was a few inches above his head, he didn't have much success.

"Papa, up."

Jimmy lifted him onto the bed and sat beside him. "You forgot to say please, Gerry."

Thomas looked at the two of them. There was no mistaking that Jimmy was Gerry's father.

"We need to talk, Jimmy."

"Yes, but someone may have already heard too much. Little pitchers ... Maybe when he goes for his nap."

"I'm not tired, Papa," Gerry objected without looking up.

"You see," Jimmy laughed.

"So we have some time to kill then."

"I'm sorry, Thomas, I had to bring him. And besides I wanted you to see him."

"Oh God, Jimmy, is that how it sounded? It's not at all what I meant. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't brought him." He started to laugh. "And rather foolish looking standing on the platform with a stuffed bear and only you to give it to."

"Who says I would have turned it down?"

Their eyes locked for a few seconds until Thomas looked away.

"How about this instead?" he asked holding out the bag, grateful for the opportunity to move on from the awkward pause.

Jimmy opened the bag and pulled out the billfold, turning it over and over, opening it, even raising it to his nose so he could smell the leather.

"There's a penny inside, of course."1

"You didn't need to buy me anything, Thomas, just having you here is enough."

"There is a difference between needing to and wanting to, you know."

Jimmy reached over and put his hand on Thomas's knee.

"Something we both should remember for later."

Thomas wasn't sure what to think. _Don't do this to me Jimmy. Is this a promise? Is this where that kiss eighteen months ago was leading? You have to know how badly I want this, how badly I've wanted it since my own blundering kiss all those years ago. But we just can't barrel headlong into it._ As he lifted Jimmy's hand away he saw the confusion and hurt spread across his face.

"Not until we've talked." _Not until I'm sure. I can't take another disappointment from you._ "So what would you like to do."

"Well, we're not going to sit here. Come back to the cottage and I'll make us some tea." It was lame, but it's all Jimmy could think of. He didn't plan on carting Gerry around all morning until he got tired. And once Gerry was home he could wander off into his bedroom and give them some time alone. _Unless Hannah's back._ The mere thought set his teeth on edge.

Thomas nodded. "Why not."

Jimmy stood up and turned to pick up Gerry.

"All right, little man, we're going home."

Gerry looked from his father to Thomas. "Oncal Thomas?"

"Yes, he's coming too." As Jimmy lifted him into his arms, Gerry shook his head.

"No, Papa, I want Oncal Thomas."

Jimmy looked at Thomas. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not. The boy has good taste. Give him here." As he took him, Gerry wrapped one arm around his neck, clutching Pooh with his free hand. "So how about when we get home I read you a story?"

"About Pooh?"

"If you like"

"Yes."

"Jimmy, will you lock up?" Thomas asked as he opened the door to leave. "The key's on the dresser."

Jimmy grabbed the key and followed them out the door. He knew that Gerry didn't make strange, but he had never actually asked anyone else to carry him except for Jimmy, not even Hannah. And that he chose to ask Thomas, a complete stranger, spoke to a level of trust that Thomas must have inspired without trying. Jimmy wondered if Gerry, in his innocence, sensed something worthwhile, a core of previously well-hidden compassion. Jimmy had seen it long ago, but because Thomas loved him - he knew that, had known it for a long time - he had always assumed that was the reason

They didn't speak much on the walk to the cottage; an air of apprehension - or perhaps anticipation - made conversation difficult. Gerry made up for them. He chattered on about anything that caught his attention, not caring if anyone was listening or answering. As they approached the front door Jimmy noticed it was open. _Did I forget to close it in the rush to get to the station?_ But when he stepped into the house he knew why.

The first sign that something was wrong was in the front room. The lamps had been knocked off the side tables, breaking one of them. At first glance there didn't seem to be any other damage, but he stopped Thomas at the doorway.

"Don't come in. Wait here with him."

Jimmy went first to the kitchen. Broken dishes and glasses littered the floor. The cupboards were open and he saw a bag of flour tipped onto the counter. As he backed out of the kitchen he started to panic. He ran to Gerry's room. The dresser drawers had been pulled out and his clothing scattered everywhere. One or two books had been ripped apart. _Oh God. She wouldn't do this. She wouldn't be so cruel as to take it out on him._ The thought made his legs give way and he had to lean against a wall for support.

"Jimmy," Thomas called from the doorway, "what's going on?"

"Not now, Thomas. Give me a minute. Just stay there."

He staggered rather than walked to their bedroom. What he had seen in Gerry's room was repeated there. He looked around. Bed sheets on the floor, feathers everywhere from a torn pillow, dresser drawers thrown to one side, his clothes tossed around the room. There were none of Hannah's anywhere. He reached down and picked up a shirt that had a sleeve ripped off. _How did I not know she was this angry? How long has she been holding all this back. How ... Shit, the money._ He shoved some of his clothes aside and found the envelope, which they had tucked into the back of the dresser, on the floor. It was empty. _Sixty pounds. Gone._ He crumpled it into a ball and tossed it to one side.

"Jimmy, you're worrying me."

"I'm coming Thomas."

Thomas knew that whatever had happened had hit Jimmy hard because his face was drained of any colour.

"Come to Papa, Gerry." He reached out and took Gerry from Thomas. "We're going next door to see Mrs. Carrey. She'll give you a biscuit and let you play with Blackie. You'll like that, won't you?"

"Yes, but Oncal Thomas ..."

"Don't worry, Gerry, I'll be here when you get back. "

"Good."

As Jimmy walked past Thomas he nodded toward the door. "Have a look. I'll only be a minute or so." By the time he returned, Thomas had already taken off his jacket and started to straighten the front room.

"Don't do that, Thomas. I ...." He stopped and dropped to the floor, burying his head in his hands. Thomas walked up behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders feeling them shudder with his sobs. Jimmy sat for a minute before tilting his head back to look at him. "I couldn't let him see this, his room, his books ... I just don't understand why she did this. Get back at me, I can take it. But not him."

"Right now, Jimmy, you don't need to understand." He brushed at the tears on Jimmy's cheeks with the tips of his fingers. "Maybe that will come later, maybe it won't. But now, we have to get this place in order, because that little boy never has to know what happened let alone who did it." He walked around in front of Jimmy and held out his hands. "Now, come on. Let's see what damage has been done, what needs to be replaced and get this mess cleaned up."

Jimmy grabbed his hands, lifting himself to his feet. "She took all the money, too. I've left what you sent Gerry with Mr. Carson, but that's it." He gave a bitter laugh. "Maybe I sensed something like this would happen. I don't know."

"Well you're not using Gerry's money to fix this."

"Jesus, Thomas, don't you understand." He looked down. "She took everything we had, except the five pounds in my billfold and the change in my pocket. There is no more. I'm not rich like some."

Thomas ignored the suggestion knowing Jimmy wasn't thinking about what he said.

"Look at me." Jimmy raised his eyes and Thomas took his face between his hands. "This is what we're going to do after we tidy up. You're going to make a list and then I'm going to give you the money." He sensed Jimmy's coming protest. "Be quiet. Am I your friend?" Jimmy nodded. "Then you will let a friend do this. If not for you then for Gerry. I have the money and I can't think of anything I would rather do with it. It's not charity, Jimmy. It's love."

Thomas dropped his hands to his sides and they both stood there, shocked to have what they both knew finally in the open. It was the implication that went beyond what he had said that shook them. All Thomas's good intentions of waiting until they talked flew out the window with that word. And it worried him that Jimmy, now confronted with the truth, would never accept it. He searched for the words to explain what he meant, to somehow make it sound more innocent, but found none.

In the end it was Jimmy who spoke.

"All right."

Thomas instinctively knew he wasn't just talking about the money.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The tradition is that when you give someone a wallet or purse as a gift, you should include money, usually a penny, either for good luck or as a wish that it never be empty


	6. Chapter 6

  
At the end of two hours they had everything tidied and the mess of broken crockery taken care of. Jimmy still worried there might be small pieces of glass on the kitchen floor, but he had swept it twice and even washed it.

Thomas dropped into the armchair with a sigh of relief.

"You may still find a few feathers in the bedroom. Do you know how hard it was to get them? The slightest movement blew them away. You really need a hoover, you know."

"Shall I add that to my list?" Jimmy asked as he sat down on the sofa opposite him.

"Don't be funny. I was just saying. What's on the list anyway?"

"Well, dishes, glasses, a new lamp eventually. I need three shirts. Two were from my livery so Carson will have a conniption. It's really not as bad as it seemed. I guess I panicked."

"Bad enough. Don't forget Gerry's books," Thomas added. "If we can't find them in Downton I'll get them in York. Thank God they weren't either of the Pooh books because I promised to read from one of them."

Thomas looked up at the mantle clock which fortunately hadn't been damaged.

"Should we think about lunch? Gerry must need something other than a biscuit. Let's go to the tea room in the village." Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What's wrong?"

"Money," Jimmy snapped. "Money, Thomas, that's what's wrong. I just can't spend it willy-nilly and I don't want you paying for anything else."

"Fine, then. What would you suggest? Sandwiches and tea here? I don't mind eating without a plate, but I'll be damned if I'll drink tea poured into my cupped hands from a spoutless pot. Or maybe we shouldn't eat at all. How do you think Gerry would like that?"

"That's not fair, Thomas. I'm just ..." Jimmy didn't go on as Thomas moved to sit beside him.

"I thought we already talked about money."

"For the damage, but not for this. It wasn't meant to be for anything else."

"I'm going to say this once and not again, Jimmy." He tentatively slipped his arm around his shoulders, not sure if Jimmy would pull away. He didn't, but instead leant into him as if drawing strength from his touch.

"If I had to give you and Gerry every penny I have, it would be yours without question. I don't think any less of you because I can give you something you need and you shouldn't be ashamed. We all have to have help at some point in our lives, whether its money or something else. And trust me because I know, it's a terrible thing if there is no one there to give it. All I'm asking is that you let me do this, let me take care of you both if only for the next few days. Just put yourself in my hands and let me do what I think is necessary. If I choose to spend money, don't ask me why. When you're back on your feet, you won't need me and that's as it should be."

Jimmy's hair brushed against Thomas's cheek as he nodded in agreement before speaking.

"You've got one thing wrong. I'll always need you. If I've learnt just one thing since you've been gone it's that."

Thomas's fingers traced along Jimmy's cheekbone, pausing at the side of his mouth which parted slightly at his touch. _No, not now. It's taking advantage of him at a low point. Better to wait until he's ready. But what if he never is?_ He drew his arm away and stood up.

"It's settled then. Let's get Gerry and go eat."

Jimmy locked the door behind them and knocked at his neighbour's

"I suppose you're here for your darling boy," Mrs. Carrey smiled as she greeted him. "I couldn't convince you to let him stay, could I?"

"Not right now, Mrs. Carrey, but maybe later if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not, my dear." She paused. "I haven't seen Hannah today. Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, but can I tell you this afternoon? Come on Gerry, let's go."

As Gerry grasped Jimmy's hand, he held out the other to Thomas who smiled and took it.

"She seems very nice," Thomas observed as they walked along.

"She is. Her own children are grown and have moved away. She only gets to see her grandchildren a few times a year, so Gerry has become a favourite. But I don't want to impose."

"I somehow don't think she would mind, at least for a while. What will you do tomorrow. I mean, you have to work. Can you get another day?"

"I wouldn't mind it. I suppose I could ask, but then Carson would pry."

"You're going to have to tell people, Jimmy. This isn't something you can hide, particularly in a village the size of Downton. They don't have to know the whole truth, though, just remember that" After a short pause Thomas asked quietly, "Are you going to look for her?"

"Oh, I know where she is, although I doubt she'll stay there long, but why would I want to? She made it very clear how she felt about us both. And she won't come back; I wouldn't let her even if she wanted to. All those bridges are burned."

"Where's Mama?" Gerry's question seemed to come from nowhere, but it shouldn't have surprised them considering their conversation. Jimmy's mouth opened, but he couldn't seem to speak until Thomas let go of Gerry's hand and reached over to squeeze his shoulder for encouragement. He knelt down to Gerry.

"Mama had to go away. She didn't have time to kiss you goodbye, but she said she loves you very much." _That will buy me some time, but at some point he'll need to know she's not coming back. Just not now._ Jimmy wasn't sure if Gerry completely understood what he said, because he just looked at him, then his lower lip began to quiver.

"You won't go away?"

Jimmy pulled Gerry to him and hugged him so tightly that Thomas was almost afraid he might hurt him.

"Never. I'll always be here."

After a moment, he took a deep breath and stood.

"Now, would you like a sandwich?"

"And cake?"

"We'll see."

The rest of the walk was in silence until they reached the tea room. They easily found an empty table and the waitress took their order quickly. As they sat talking about nothing in particular, a woman's voice suddenly interrupted.

"Mr. Kent! What a nice surprise. And you have Gerry with you."

Both Jimmy and Thomas stood up and turned to greet Isobel Crawley.

"And Mr. Barrow, is that you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Crawley, it is indeed."

"I see you have a spare place, mind if I join you for a minute while I wait for my friend?"

Thomas looked to Jimmy to answer.

"Of course." He pulled out the chair so she could sit down.

She leant over and gently stroked Gerry's cheek.

"My, he has grown, but then it's been months."

She switched her attention to Thomas.

"Well Mr. Barrow, what brings you back from ... York, correct? ... to Downton."

Thomas noticed that she didn't refer to either of them by their last names alone, which he found interesting. _Likely just an idiosyncrasy of age._

"Just visiting, Mrs. Crawley."

"And things are well."

"Yes, thank you, couldn't be better.

She nodded as she looked down to rummage through her purse.

"So, Gerry, where's your Mama today?"

"Mama's gone away."

Across from him Thomas saw Jimmy stiffen and his lips form a tight line.

She looked up and was about to speak when she saw the almost imperceptible shake of Jimmy's head. Thomas watched her eyes narrowed slightly. _Aging she may be, but she's still damn sharp._

"That's nice, dear." She made it sound like a disinterested, off-hand comment, which both Jimmy and Thomas knew was far from the case. She looked up over Thomas's head.

"Ah, there's my friend. Sorry I can't stay longer, but I must go." As both men stood, she leant closer to Jimmy. "If I can be of any assistance, you know where to find me."

As they sat back down, Thomas laughed. "That's Isobel Crawley for you; always sticking her oar in, but her heart's in the right place." He watched as a troubled shadow spread across Jimmy's face. "That's what I meant, Jimmy. You need to be prepared for this and you need to be able to control how much people know. I have some ideas if you like," he tilted his head at Gerry, "but for later."

Any further conversation was cut short by the arrival of lunch and Jimmy busying himself with both eating and making sure Gerry ate. After they finished, Thomas took money from his billfold to pay, while at the same time casually slipping Jimmy sixty pounds.

"Well, I'm not going to let you pick out all the things you need and then while you stand back I pay," he answered Jimmy's look of surprise.

"It's not just that. This is too much."

"So give me back what you don't spend." He stood up and looked at Gerry. "Now, Gerry, you and your Papa are going shopping, but I'll see you later."

"For Pooh."

"Boy, you have a memory. Yes, for Pooh." He turned to Jimmy. "I know we just ate, but what do you want to do about dinner?"

"I don't know how to cook much of anything." _Jesus, how am I going to look after Gerry if I can't feed him?_

"Why don't I see if the pub can give us something. They advertised a picnic lunch, which I thought was sort of fancy for Downton. Or maybe they can do something here. Anyway leave it to me. I'll find something and bring it by around seven."

Jimmy hesitated.

"Are you sure you won't come with us? I know nothing about dishes and things like that."

"And I do? Ask a shop girl. Any one of them will be happy to help a handsome man and his son. Now let's go."

When they parted in the street, Thomas watched as Jimmy walked away holding onto Gerry's hand. _I don't envy you the next few weeks. Dealing with all the changes and nosey people to boot will take its toll. I wish I could stay to help._ He shook his head as turned in the direction of the pub. _But I can't._

\----

True to his word, Thomas showed up at Jimmy's front door, picnic basket in hand, shortly before seven.

"It's all cold things," he pointed out as he unpacked, "but it looks pretty good." He pulled out a bottle of wine. "And there's this." He paused. "You did get glasses, right?"

"I did. And everything else I needed, all in about an hour. They even delivered what I couldn't carry this afternoon." He reached into his pocket for his billfold. "And this is yours."

Thomas took the money and put it away without even counting it. "Where's Gerry?"

"With Mrs. Carrey. I'll get him when we're ready to eat. I explained what had happened - not everything, mind you - and asked if she could look after him when I'm at work. Naturally she said yes and she refuses to take any money except for food despite having to look after him all day and most evenings." Jimmy sat down on the sofa as Thomas opened the wine. "I tried to spend as much time as I could with Hannah and him, but it's difficult. You know what it's like with the hours we work. Maybe I was foolish to think I could have a family life."

Thomas poured them each some wine and sat down beside him.

"As far as Gerry's concerned, I think you more than managed. He loves you. And right now he's all that matters." Thomas lifted his glass in a toast. "Agreed?"

Jimmy nodded.

"I also went to see Mr. Carson."

"You have been busy."

"Surprising what you can do in five hours when you put your mind to it. Figured I would get it over with." He took a long sip from his glass. "I took Gerry and managed to have Mrs. Hughes there as well."

"The sympathy manoeuvre."

"True," Jimmy laughed, "but one of the maids took care of Gerry while we talked. I wanted both of them to know in case any rumours got back to them. Took your advice about controlling what people know."

"Guess you won't need my suggestions after all. Well done. And so?"

"Carson blustered and fumed a bit, but it was just show. He even asked if I needed more time off, saying he and Mrs. Hughes would explain to the family. So I asked for two more days."

Thomas refilled their almost empty glasses.

"It's a good start, Jimmy. You've cleared the first few hurdles."

"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm proud of myself," Jimmy replied with a bashful grin. "And it's hungry work. I'll go get Gerry."

\----

After dinner, Gerry disappeared for a minute and returned holding Pooh in one hand and a book in his other.

"I see you're ready for an adventure," Thomas said as he took the book.

"A venture?"

"Yes, like Pooh and Piglet and Eeyore have in The Hundred Acre Wood."

Jimmy stared at Thomas. _How does he know the stories? Did he read the books before he sent them? I'll bet he did. Oh, I'm not going to let him live this down._

"Are we going to the Wood?"

"Not quite, but we're going to read about it."

Gerry settled onto Thomas's lap as he began to read. After watching them for a while, Jimmy leant his head against the sofa back and closed his eyes. The sound of Thomas's voice was calming, reassuring. After a day of drama and upset, it felt good to just lose himself in it.

\----

_Christopher Robin gave a deep sigh, picked his Bear up by the leg, and walked off to the door, trailing Pooh behind him. At the door he turned and said, 'Coming to see me have my bath?'_

_'I might,' I said._

_'I didn't hurt him when I shot him, did I?'_

_'Not a bit.'_

_He nodded and went out, and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh – bump, bump, bump – going up the stairs behind him._

"And that's the adventure for tonight." Thomas looked down at Gerry who had fallen asleep against his chest, then over at Jimmy who was quietly snoring propped up against the arm of the sofa. "Obviously my reading creates excitement."

He closed the book, setting it to one side, and lifted Gerry as he stood. Crossing to Jimmy, he gently shook his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open and he yawned.

"I think the boyo needs to go to bed. And you look like you shouldn't be far behind him, so I'm going to be off."

"You don't have to go right away, do you? Let me put him down and I'll make a cup of tea."

"Thanks, but I really should go."

Jimmy stood and took Gerry, cradling him in one arm.

"You could stay the night."

Thomas looked at the sofa.

"I don't think that would be very comfortable. Beside I have a room and a decent bed at the pub."

Thomas was startled when he felt Jimmy's free hand against his chest. It lingered briefly before ghosting upward to his throat, then resting lightly against his cheek."

"One kiss, then eighteen months of letters. Letters that said much more than I ever dared to before. Surely you had to suspect what I was still too afraid to ask." He slowly drew his hand away, trailing his fingers along his jaw line. "I didn't say you had to sleep on the sofa."  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Explicit Sexual Content**

When Thomas didn't say anything Jimmy stepped away.

"I'm going to put Gerry to bed. If you're still here when I get back, I'll know you understand." _If you're not, then I truly have fucked up any chance I had._

Thomas sat back down. He had wanted to answer, but the words just wouldn't come. Years and years of holding back, burying any hope in the remotest corner of his mind, had left him unprepared for the possibility that hope could become reality. The kiss, the letters, the hints that became less veiled as time went on, until a moment ago when all pretense disappeared. All of those should have made this easy, but they didn't He worried that Jimmy was so emotionally drained that he wasn't thinking, that he really wasn't ready. What he feared most was that any chance of love and of finally being loved by the only person that mattered would slip through his fingers; that moving too fast would mean losing everything. And yet he stayed.

The creak of a floorboard startled him.

"Thank you," was all Jimmy said as he walked up behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders. Thomas bowed his head slightly as he reached back to hold them in place before taking one and guiding him around to face him. He hesitated before looking up.

"You have to be sure, Jimmy. I wouldn't survive if anything we did hurt you or drove you away. If you're not, then I'll get up and leave and we'll stay friends, best friends."

In answer, Jimmy dropped to his knees in front of him and leant in until their lips brushed. It wasn't a kiss, or at least if it was, it was like no other kiss Thomas could remember. Instead it was a reassurance that Jimmy knew what he was doing, that whatever happened next, even though he couldn't be sure what that would be, he was ready to place himself in Thomas's care once again.

Thomas stood up, grasping Jimmy under the arms and lifting him to his feet. At first he did nothing other than just look at him, as if memorising his face at the moment their lives would change, then he pulled him in close until their cheeks touched.

"Jimmy, you don't know ..." he whispered. _How much I still love you after all these years of pretending. How I've hated being apart for the last eighteen months. What I would give up just to be here with you again and never leave._ But he didn't say any of that. Those words were for later. Instead he just held him, absorbing the rhythm of his heart, before turning his head to kiss his cheek, working his way forward to his lips. He felt Jimmy start to tremble as his tongue slipped over them, tantalising them, and he was about to stop when they opened and their tongues met.

Suddenly Jimmy wrapped his arms around Thomas's neck, pulling their mouths together, almost stopping their breaths. Just as suddenly he broke away, loosening his hold, but not letting go.

"Jesus!" he murmured against Thomas's lips. "Jesus!" He shifted so his crotch rubbed against Thomas's thigh, trapping his growing erection between them.

"Not here, Jimmy." He could feel the smile edge across Jimmy's lips before he pulled away and led him to the bedroom.

Thomas turned on the bedside lamp. "I want to see you. We're not going to hide in the dark."

Jimmy kicked his shoes off. As he started to unbutton his shirt, Thomas put out his hand to stop him.

"Let me."

He couldn't miss the chance of doing something he had dreamed about for so long. Jimmy's hands dropped to his sides. Thomas's fingers fumbled with the first button as if all his valet training had deserted him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, finally feeling it slip from the buttonhole. The success steadied him as he pulled the shirt from his trousers and undid the rest with no problem. He pushed his suspenders off and parted the shirt, slipping it part way off his shoulders, before leaning in and kissing the base of his throat. His thumbs lightly toyed with Jimmy's nipples, dragging out a deep, soft growl. He slid his hands down to grasp the sides of his waist and bent in to kiss first one nipple and then the other, switching to his tongue and teeth, hearing the growl became a louder groan.

Jimmy gasped when he pulled away to undo the shirt cuffs, lifting each wrist to his lips in turn, trailing kisses into his palms. Finally he raised Jimmy's arms over his head and pulled the shirt off. As his fingers traced up and down his ribs, he felt him shiver. One more kiss to his throat, then he licked down through the dip of his chest, lowering his head to sink his tongue into his navel as he hooked his thumbs into the back of his trousers. He slid them along the waistband until they met at the front, letting his fingers play with the tented fabric beneath. Jimmy tensed and threw his head back, almost taking them both onto the bed.

Thomas straightened, kissing Jimmy once again, licking his lips apart as he undid the buttons and let his trousers drop to the floor. He skimmed his hands along the waistband of his pants to the back, slipping them down to mold his ass, pulling him forward until their bodies ground against one another. It was almost as if he could feel the heat rising through Jimmy's skin as he writhed against him. He knew that he was in complete control, that Jimmy had abandoned himself to be held and caressed and ... loved.

Bringing his arms to Jimmy's sides, he spread them and forced the pants outward, sliding them down from hips until he released them to settle on the floor with his trousers. He shuffled him backward until Jiimmy's legs hit the bed and he fell onto it. Bending over he pulled off the clothing that was tangled around his feet, tossing everything into the corner. He stopped and looked down. He could hardly believe that it was Jimmy lying there, staring back at him, eyes hazy with desire. Quickly stripping his own clothes, he stood above him, watching his eyes travel down his body, hungrily taking in every detail. Jimmy reached up his arms and Thomas dropped into them. Jimmy lurched upward as their cocks touched.

They lay there without moving until Thomas raised himself slightly, slipping his hand in between them and tightly grasping their cocks. He slid them up and down against one another, slipping their foreskins back and forth over the heads.

"Don't," Jimmy warned as stickiness clung to Thomas's fingers.

Thomas slid off him to one side, but still played with Jimmy's cock, lightly stoking it with his fingers.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Barely." The word caught in Jimmy's throat as Thomas moved lower, gently cupping and rolling his balls. "No, you better stop for a minute."

Thomas slid his hand down the inside of Jimmy's thigh and left it there for a few seconds, then turned on his side, dropping his arm across Jimmy's stomach and resting his head on his chest.

"I'm sorry," Jimmy whispered.

"Why? I don't mind taking my time, love." _It's been almost fifteen years and I've never given up waiting for you._

After a moment, Thomas straddled Jimmy on all fours. He kissed him, gently biting at his lower lip, then his mouth began its journey, tracing a path familiar from his dreams. With each kiss or nip or touch. Jimmy's quiet moans deepened, vibrating through his body. Thomas paused just above the head of his cock, as if wanting to prolong the intimacy. Then he quickly tasted the bead of liquid at its tip before taking only the head in his mouth and running his tongue in circles around it.

"F-u-u-ck!" Jimmy growled as he bolted upright, wrapping his arms around Thomas's neck and burying his face in his hair.

As Thomas waited, it occurred to him that, although Jimmy was far from naïve, this was without doubt the first time his cock had been in someone's mouth. He tightened his lips and slowly travelled up and down the shaft, curling his tongue so it hugged and teased. Jimmy's fingernails dug into his shoulders as he raised his hips. He released him, hovering for a moment before quickly sucking at the head several times, using his lips to push at his foreskin. Leaning forward, he pushed him back onto the bed, collapsing on top of him as Jimmy's arms slid from his neck.

He knelt up between Jimmy's legs and grasped the base of his cock, pulling it forward until his lips barely touched it. As his tongue flicked along its length, he could see Jimmy's mouth open in anticipation and hear his jagged breaths. Continuing to lick at the sensitive spot just beneath the head, he slowly slid his hand up and down, pressing his thumb along the its length. With each upward movement, Jimmy bucked and squirmed. He leant forward, sucking him in once again, his mouth joining his fist, until his fist stopped, buried in Jimmy's groin, and his mouth continued twisting and turning, but just at the head.

"Ah, Thomas ... I'm ..." The words were cut off by the violent jolt of Jimmy's hips as he arched his back. With his free hand, Thomas reached up and pressed his finger back and forth along the ridge between Jimmy's balls and ass, teasing at his hole ever so slightly with each pass. Jimmy's thighs clenched, trapping his hand, as the first surge hit. Thomas loosened his fist and stroked each spurt from him, listening to him moan uncontrollably. Finally Jimmy dropped back and lay panting, shuddering with each movement of Thomas's mouth until he let go and buried his head against his twitching cock.

Thomas moved up, wrapping Jimmy in his arms and pulling him against his chest, once again feeling his heart pulse against his skin. When Jimmy spoke his words sounded distant, as if he were still lost in the last few moments.

"That was ... And you called me 'love'. Did you mean that?"

Thomas kissed him on the forehead. He had let the word slip unconsciously, but he knew it was the truth.

"Yes. We both know it always has been."

"So long," Jimmy sighed sleepily. "It took so long, but you waited. I don't deserve that." He shifted against him then suddenly realised Thomas was still hard. "i'm sorry, I should ... But I don't know ..."

Thomas's lips twisted into a quick smile.

"The night's still young."  



	8. Chapter 8

  
A noise woke Thomas in the middle of the night. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings, wondering who was spooned against him, then in an instant he remembered everything. He eased up on one elbow, careful not to disturb him. The moonlight from the window played across Jimmy's face as a light breeze stirred the curtains. Watching the shadows come and go, hiding then revealing him, reminded Thomas how much of his life had been lived in darkness with only occasional flashes of light breaking through. He knew most of it was because he never thought that he had the right to anything that even approached happiness let alone love. All his worst doubts flooded back.

Even with Phillip, in the moments he dared hope that he was sincere about needing him, about taking him away, there was always this little voice that said _'Why would anyone love you? You'll end up alone. That's all you deserve'_. As the years went by he came to realise just how true that was and it only served to make him resentful. He saw others around him find someone and share their joy with anyone who would listen. All that did was lead him to understand he had little hope. He knew he wasn't the only one, of course. In service, or anywhere else, there were many like him, but that did nothing to make it any easier or to help him deal with it.

He laid back down, pulling Jimmy a little closer as he stirred in his sleep. But now he had another worry. They had truly found one another after all these years, but where they would go from here was another matter entirely. In two days he would return to York and Jimmy would stay in Downton. Only a few miles apart. He had told Jimmy that York wasn't the antipodes, but now he wasn't so sure. His eyes began to sting. _'You'll end up alone'_.

He rested his cheek against Jimmy's head. _Wouldn't that just be the way? Me, an old fool, pining away in York and Jimmy just going on with his life. He's got Gerry and he'll probably find someone else. Hopefully not another Hannah though. I'll be Gerry's Uncle Thomas, dropping by at Christmas or on his birthday, but mostly forgotten the rest of the time._ He felt a tear slide down his cheek into Jimmy's hair. _Christ, I've become a maudlin twat._ He closed his eyes, listening to Jimmy breath. _I love him and I can't let any of that happen, but will it matter? Could he ever love me? 'Why would anyone love you?'_

He must have tightened his hold too much because Jimmy woke with a start.

"What ... What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Jimmy reached back to touch his cheek. "Why have you been crying?"

"It's nothing."

Jimmy pulled away, turning to face him.

"Nonsense. I know that Thomas Barrow wouldn't cry if there wasn't a reason."

Thomas sighed. _Don't spoil things._ "Tonight has been the best I can ever remember. Guess I'm just happy."

"You cry because you're happy?"

"Yes. Now you know my weakness."

In the half light, he thought he saw Jimmy frown.

"It's all right. I won't tell anyone." He turned over and worked his way closer, pressing his back tightly against Thomas, somehow sensing that would reassure him. _That's bullshit, but I'm not going to push him, not going to ruin tonight. Tomorrow though I'm going to find out No secrets, Thomas._ If you love me, no secrets. He reached around and pulled Thomas's arm down over his chest, brushing his lips against his wounded hand, then holding it.

"Now," he asked drowsily as he squeezed his hand, "can we go back to sleep? Doesn't matter if I have to go to work or not, Gerry's up early." He could feel Thomas smile against his neck. _Now that's better._

They each shifted slightly, settling into one another, taking comfort from the steady rhythm of each other's heartbeats, then drifted off.

\---

Jimmy, tea towel draped over his shoulder, stuck his head through the bedroom door as Thomas was pulling on his trousers.

"Ah, good. I made toast if you want some. Toast is my specialty, you know."

"Sure, then I have to go to the pub to get cleaned up and for a change of clothes." He picked his shirt off the floor and slipped it on. "What are your plans for today?"

"Nothing really. Can't remember the last time I was able to say that. Spend time with Gerry is about all." He broke into a broad smile. "And you, if you'll have me."

"Well," Thomas reflected as looked down to button his shirt, "I'll have to think about that. Let me get back to you."

When he looked up the tea towel hit him square in the face.

"I take it that's not satisfactory then," he laughed.

"Bloody right it's not."

"Well, I was thinking that, among a few other things, maybe a real picnic would be nice. You know, outdoors, not in your front room. We can walk along the river, find somewhere quiet. It looks like it's going to be a nice day." He hesitated. _We can't put this off. I need to know if we should try to make plans or if it's useless_. "I would like to take Gerry, but you and I really need to have some time together after last night. Do you think Mrs. Carrey will look after him for a few hours?"

"Of course she will. And I'd rather not worry about keeping an eye on him, particularly near the water." He walked over to Thomas and wrapped his arms around his waist. "There's so much I want to tell you and so much I want to hear.

"Right then. I'll have some of your famous toast and be off." He followed Jimmy into the kitchen, sitting down beside Gerry. Reaching over, he wiped some porridge from his cheek. "You're a messy little thing, aren't you?"

In response, Gerry dipped his hand into the bowl and held a fistful of porridge out to him. Thomas held his wrist and bent over, pretending to lick the porridge off.

"Uh, Jimmy, bring a cloth."

"More," Gerry insisted.

"No, thank you. I have to save room for your Papa's toast."

Jimmy set a plate of toast and a cup of tea in front of Thomas, then wiped Gerry's hand.

"See, Gerry, " Thomas nodded at the plate, "toast fit for King George has arrived."

"All right, all right," Jimmy laughed. "I suppose you could do better."

"No," Thomas answered between bites, "but then it's not my specialty."

True," Jimmy replied with a wink, "but based on last night I think I know what is."

Thomas choked on his tea, spluttering it down the front of his shirt, much to Gerry's amusement. Jimmy tossed Thomas the cloth as he picked Gerry up .

"See, Gerry, Uncle Thomas is messy too. Now, let's go get you changed."

"Oncal Thomas?" Gerry asked.

"He can change himself."

"Very funny," Thomas grumbled as he mopped at his shirt. Dropping the cloth on the table, he got his coat, calling to Jimmy as he headed for the door. "I'll be back at noon. That gives you time with Gerry before you have to leave him. Is that all right?"

"Yes. See you then."

On his walk to the village, Thomas tried to come to terms with what had happened last night, hoping to gain some perspective. Egged on by the ghosts of last night's uncertainties, he was afraid they had started down a path that neither was prepared for. _Maybe it will be one time only_. That made no sense when he thought back to Jimmy's spontaneous affection and his eagerness to spend time together that afternoon. He had to know they were going to talk not just about last night but about the future. _If there is one._ When he tried to think about the future, all he saw were problems. _I'll likely spend my days off here and that will be all. Still that's better than the Uncle Thomas I envisioned last night, the man on thr outside looking in. But is that enough?_ The idea of having within his grasp what he realised now was all he ever wanted in the last fifteen years, but having to be satisfied with much less seemed more than just unfair. No matter how desperately he wanted more, he knew that, because he would be with Jimmy, he would settle for that if he had to. He just worried that Jimmy wouldn't.  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter

  
The dirt path that ran beside the river was just wide enough so they could walk side by side, but their shoulders and arms still brushed against one another. At one point Thomas stumbled, saved from falling when Jimmy grabbed him by the arm. He didn't let go even after he had steadied him. Instead his hand slid down to take his, holding it briefly as they continued on. Thomas knew that Jimmy could only act this openly because they were well beyond the village and hadn't seen anyone for a good ten minutes. Yet, he was still surprised that he would go that far no matter how slight the chance of being seen. It was as if their night together had broken some barrier that held back years of caution and uncertainty that Jimmy wanted to dispel with a new-found freedom. Thomas wondered, as he always did when life brought him the possibility of happiness, if it was too good to be true. If somehow it wouldn't all be snatched away.

They rounded a slight bend in the path and it widened out into a small meadow carpeted in wild grass, bordered by willows. Thomas stopped and looked around. "This looks good, flat with trees if we need shade." He set the basket down and spread out a blanket, which had hardly hit the ground before Jimmy was sprawled out on it. He reached up to grab Thomas's arm, pulling him down to sit beside him.

"I'm glad we decided to do this," Jimmy said, looking into Thomas's eyes as leant over him.

"It isn't just for fun, Jimmy. I wanted us to be alone so we could try to figure out what we're going to do."

"What makes you think we're going to do anything?" Jimmy asked as he traced the back of Thomas's hand with his fingers.

"What?" Thomas sat upright, pulling away from his touch.

"Be honest, Thomas, what can we do? Are you going to take Gerry and me back to York with you? Are you going to quit your job and come back here? Either way, what are we going to live on? And what will people think. Would either of us have a job if anyone knew?"

Thomas frowned as he listened. What Jimmy was saying didn't surprise him, but the fact that Jimmy was the one to say it did. Thomas had assumed it would be he who raised the questions, brought reason to the situation. He had to admit he still saw Jimmy as someone who needed guidance, the Jimmy who so often had seemed to act on impulse.

"Well, I don't intend to go back to the way things were. I'm not going to lose us. Not after waiting all this time." He paused because he already knew what they would do; he had admitted it to himself earlier in the day. It seemed to be all they would have. It was where Jimmy was leading with his questions. And if that was right, then he wasn't as worried as he had been that Jimmy would be frustrated by a relationship that might seem to others as incomplete, wanting. And yet, he still wasn't sure. _I can't be this lucky_.

"So we're to be apart. Live our lives like before, when we both know it can never be like that again." He hesitated as conflicting emotions tore at him. "What if it's not enough for you? What if you find someone else?" The words, which he had kept bottled up, were out before he knew it and there was no taking them back. _Better to know now._

"How many men have you been with?" Jimmy's question came from nowhere.

"Uh ...," Thomas stumbled as tried to figure out where this was leading. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"Humour me."

"Well ... You know about Phillip."

Jimmy nodded.

"Five or six I guess." Despite himself Thomas blushed, not because he was discussing this with Jimmy, but because there had been so few men. Truth be told, he had more opportunities than that, but being who he was, what he was, had never been simple. He had never been able to separate sex from the need for something more meaningful. Maybe it was mutual attraction that went beyond the physical act, maybe just a sense of connection, but if it wasn't there he wasn't interested.

"And how many of those were since you met me?"

Thomas puzzled a moment until it hit him.

"None."

"I thought so. I guess we could say you've been faithful to me for almost fifteen years, even though you got nothing in return."

"I had your friendship," Thomas protested.

"But I had your love."

"Yes."

"And you don't think that I'm capable of that same type of commitment now that I've given you far more than friendship. That once you're gone, it won't be enough that I know you're coming back. Do you really think I'm that shallow? Do you imagine that last night was me trying something new and now I'm ready to move on?" He started to tremble and Thomas reached out to him. "Damn it, don't you understand I love you too. It's taken me almost all of those fifteen years to realise that."

Suddenly his arms were around Thomas's neck as he crushed their mouths together. It was a kiss filled with desperation. As if Jimmy hoped that if his words had failed, the kiss would convey everything he had meant. When he finally broke away his fingers tangled in  
Thomas's hair and he rested his forehead against his shoulder. Thomas leant forward, gently pushing him back onto the blanket, letting their bodies shape to one another. _Maybe this will turn out the way we want. It won't be a matter of luck or something that happens because it's supposed to. We both know what we're getting into and that it may not always be easy. We'll have to work at it. But he loves me ..._ As he laid there holding Jimmy he realised that the voice that always told him he wasn't good enough was quiet.

\---

As he fussed with his tie in the mirror, Jimmy caught sight of Thomas behind him, slouched against in the doorway, a smile playing at his lips. He threw up his hands in surrender.

"I'm all thumbs. Help me with this, will you. I can't get the knot right."

"Yes, m'lord. Anything you say, m'lord." Thomas pushed himself off the doorframe and made his way to stand behind him. He reached around and began working at the tie. "You're just edgy. After all, it's not every day you have a son graduating from Cambridge."

Jimmy broke into a broad smile. "No it's not, is it?" As Thomas pushed the tie into place and adjusted the knot, he continued, "I'm supposed to meet this girl, you know. The one he's been talking about for the last six months."

"Yes, love, I know. I was there remember," Thomas laughed. "You'd swear it was you who was going to be paraded out for approval."

"But what if this is serious? I mean, she has to like me."

Thomas wrapped his arms around him, kissing the side of his forehead.

"Who wouldn't like you? Now get a move on or we'll be late and that is definitely the wrong first impression."

"Oh, Jesus, really? Where's my jacket?"

"Right here." Thomas took it from the chair back and held it out so he could slip into it. "Let me see you." He nodded. _Still as handsome as ever._ "I think you'll do," he said as he brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen onto Jimmy's forehead. He reached over to the dresser and picked up a hat. "You'll need this too." He grabbed his own hat and a camera as he almost pushed Jimmy out the hotel room door, locking it behind them.

\---

Gerry scanned the milling crowd, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

"I don't see him and we have to go in soon."

The girl standing beside him squeezed his hand. "There's lots of time. Don't worry, I don't think you're father would miss this."

Gerry smiled down at her then looked back to the throng of people. " I know Dianne. It's just .... There they are," he almost shouted as he waved and Jimmy waved back.

"So that's your father. You should have told me to look for an older and better looking you," she teased. "Who's that with him?"

"That's my Uncle Thomas?"

"They're brothers? Never would have guessed that."

"No, no. He's my Dad's best friend. I've known him all my life and he's always been Uncle Thomas. Can't bring myself to call him anything else." He almost raced forward, grabbing first Jimmy in a bear hug, then Thomas before walking them back to Dianne.

"Dad, Uncle Thomas, this is Dianne Lindsay. You've heard me speak of her."

Thomas dearly wanted to say 'you never stop' but knew he would never embarrass Gerry in that way.

Dianne held out her hand to Jimmy, "Mr. Kent," then to Thomas, "Mr. ... uh"

"Barrow," Thomas supplied as bowed slightly and shook her hand, "Thomas Barrow. My, Gerry said you were beautiful, but I had no idea."

"Uncle Thomas!" Gerry protested, blushing profusely.

"Hush, Gerry," Dianne laughed, "a girl doesn't mind hearing these things." She turned to Jimmy. "So Mr. Kent, a milestone day. You must be proud of him."

Jimmy reached out and pulled Gerry to him, "I am." Then he looked at Thomas, "We are."

Thomas noted the quizzical look that briefly crossed Dianne's face. "You're graduating as well, Miss Lindsay. Are your parents here?"

"Please call me Dianne, Mr Barrow. No, sadly both my parents have passed on and my aunt was unable to be here."

"Well, then will you allow us to be your family for the day?" Jimmy asked.

Her mouth opened slightly, as if taken aback by the unexpectedness of the idea. "I think that would be wonderful. Thank you."

Gerry took her by the hand. "We have to go in now, but we'll meet here afterwards, right Dad?"

"Yes, and then we have reservations for dinner later. Thomas made them and he assures me we'll enjoy the restaurant. You'll join us Dianne, of course."

Gerry and Dianne headed in one direction while Jimmy and Thomas went to find their seats

\---

"So," Gerry asked as they waited to be taken to their places, "what do you think?"

"About your father? Like father, like son. I wouldn't have expected anything less. He's sweet. So nice of him to include me today. And your Uncle Thomas. He's a smooth one." She hesitated. "What's the story there?"

"They used to work together back when they were both in service. When my mother left us, Uncle Thomas held us together, I guess. He came to see us every week. We even went on holidays together. Always this little place by the sea. I'll show you some day. Then when my father lost his position as butler after the war, Uncle Thomas brought us to York, put us in a house he owned, helped my Dad get another job. We saw more of him after that. Now they're both retired they live in that same house. I guess you'd say we three were inseparable then and they're inseparable now."

Dianne nodded. _You don't know, do you? Or more likely you do and it's not worth mentioning because it doesn't matter._ She took Gerry's hand once again, just before they were led away.

\---

Thomas stood back, taking photos of Gerry and Jimmy, of Gerry and Dianne, of the three of them. He felt his chest tighten when he saw Jimmy's look of pride and he had to turn away for a moment after he snapped the last one so he could quickly wipe at his eyes with his handkerchief.

"Uncle Thomas?"

He turned back with a smile that matched his true happiness. Gerry was standing close, his arm around Jimmy's shoulders.

"Give Dianne the camera. She's going to take some shots of you, Dad and me." He reached out and pulled Thomas in beside them. Jimmy's hand found his behind Gerry's back. "I can't let the day go by without having photos of my family. Now smile you two."

~~ End ~~  



End file.
